


Only a Darker Soul

by lillpon



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mentions of self-harm, Modern AU, Swearing, Vampire Emma, but then it gets angsty and feelsy and idk I just went with it, uhm there's a bit of smut? but it's not very explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 21:46:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18170273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillpon/pseuds/lillpon
Summary: Emma is a modern vampire who, despite hiding her nature, loves hosting big parties in her mansion. Each night ends with someone joining her in bed. It's nothing special. Not even with Killian Jones. Really.





	Only a Darker Soul

**Author's Note:**

> So as I mention in the tags, there's a bit of smut here, but that part is short and it's not very explicit, so I put it on Mature rating. If you think it should be tagged as explicit, let me know.
> 
> Make sure you're okay with the warning for a self-harm mention, too.

Through the thick walls of her mansion, Emma can hear the music, the cheers, and a little bit to the left, the sounds of someone having a little too much fun, knowingly breaking one of the few rules she has set for her parties.

 

But that's okay. She can't risk exposing her super hearing over a few people wanting to top the night off with some good sex.

 

And it's not like she's not doing the exact same thing right now. Or at least, getting close to that.

 

Her companion today seems patient, curious. Almost every one of those she chooses to spend the night with take a few moments to get to know her body, of course. And every one goes for the neck; Emma always finds it funny, as if they have any chance of knowing and appreciating the irony. But today's catch, along with the neck thing, seems to be deliberately taking it slow. Impressive, she thinks, considering how he's been ogling her almost since he entered the bar.

 

Not that she's complaining; he's doing a great job, and with only one hand, to boot.

 

Oh, shit. Now she's thinking about the metal hook gently resting on her hip. Steel, no less. She tries to go back to the feel of his hand, adorned with those silver rings that have been making her breath go faster since they contacted her skin under her shirt, but now her mind is stubbornly set on the hook. As her hand trails along his warm torso and rests on his back, under his clothes, she thinks how the hook would feel on her hard nipples, trailing down her body, lower, lower...

 

She moans as she imagines how it would feel if it was solid silver. Lower and lower...

 

She catches herself, however. How would _he_ feel about her making dirty thoughts about his prosthetic limb?

 

"What's your name?" she breathes. She's usually already asked that by now. There was definitely something about him, something along what she's felt around other supernatural beings... but he is not one. It's like he entranced her from the moment they left the bar.

 

He leans back a little, and she looks into his eyes. Pupils dilated, of course. She knew what she was good at. "Killian Jones," he says in a low voice.

 

Truth. Yet another thing to lure her in.

 

Oh, hell no. She is the one in control here.

 

"Hmm. Let's go inside, Killian, shall we?"

 

He stops kissing her for a moment once they enter her chilly bedroom. "You like the cold, don't you, love?"

 

"I _love_ the cold." If only you knew, buddy. "Besides, it's an old mansion. It takes a lot to warm it up - and most of it goes to the bar."

 

He doesn't seem to be listening, though, lips stuck on her jawline, hair moving right in front of her nose.

 

Oh, he smells so nice...

 

She shivers as she feels the pinch in her fangs. _Not now_ , she thinks, trying to will her thirst to calm down. She may not have had human blood in weeks, but her herb remedies have quenched the thirst for the night.

 

But he does smell nice.

 

He takes the hook off after she pushes him on the bed. Damn it. At least he keeps the rings on his fingers.

 

A few minutes later a familiar, treacherous thought crosses her mind. What if that one's not a one-time thing?

 

Of course, she's thought of that before. With Elsa, with Ruby, with Graham... all of them ending up simple names. Well, aside from Graham. Of all people, she had to grow fondness for an unnaturally late-developed werewolf. But in any case... she can't. Emma Swan is an ageless vampire hiding behind walls. If she ever finds someone to trust, she'll end up brokenhearted anyway as she'll have to watch them eventually die.

 

So she only satisfies her one craving, and pushes that treacherous thought away every time it appears.

 

A part of her fears she's made the wrong choice tonight as he climaxes. His normal scent doesn't compare to how divinely he smells now, blood practically begging her to drink from him, as if beneath his groans of pleasure lie pleas of submission and acceptance.

 

But she's been a vampire for more than half a century now. She's not old by that race's standards, but she's mature enough to control that craving.

 

However, her body decides otherwise when her climax comes. Her fangs sprout out, her colored lenses burn away from her eyes, and a deep hiss emanates from her throat. She stops herself right as she leans to look down at him.

 

Shit. She's exposed herself.

 

She's breathing hard, short hisses still escaping her, almost drooling down at him, but he doesn't look that horrified. A bit of it, yes, eyes and mouth open wide... but fuck, he's still hard inside her. Is he turned on by this?

 

She closes her eyes and focuses. _Calm down_. She swallows deep, feeling her fangs retreat and her muscles relax. She unmounts him and sits next to him, opening her eyes.

 

His eyes had narrowed, but now they open wide again as they focus on her now undoubtedly red eyes.

 

"You're a vampire," he says, covering his crotch with the blanket. At least he's gone soft.

 

"Or a great actor."

 

He snorts a laugh.

 

"Aren't you afraid?" she says.

 

"I must admit, a little." He smiles. "But from your reaction I gathered you didn't want to be exposed, and I would already be dead if you were dangerous."

 

"You're in luck, then. I haven't killed anyone in decades."

 

"So... now what?" He looks a little around the bedroom, then back at her.

 

"Now you leave and keep what happened here to yourself."

 

"And what if I don't?"

 

She raises an eyebrow at his playful smile. "I'm a good-standing vampire. You know it's against the law to expose me."

 

"You misunderstood me, love." He inches closer. "What if I don't leave? What if I stay?"

 

Is he serious? "Stay?"

 

"You do this every night. Why is it that you only exposed yourself tonight?"

 

"What makes you think it's the only time this happened?" she bluffs.

 

"If it's not the only time, then it's certainly one of the very few. You're quite famous in town. Despite your extravagant mansion, there are no rumors about you being a vampire."

 

"Are you planning to make a point?" she says mockingly as she slips into a bathrobe.

 

"I'm just curious. I... it was quite a night." He smiles softly, and... what the hell?! Does he think...

 

"Oh, no." She huffs a laugh. "It's just that..." To hell with it. He knows already. "You smell exceptionally tasty."

 

He raises an eyebrow in question.

 

"Your blood. It smells... well, great. Especially right when you finished. And my... wild impulses kinda woke up. That's all."

 

"Oh. So you were going to drink from me?" He looks a bit disappointed.

 

"Hmm-mm."

 

"But you controlled yourself."

 

She rolls her eyes. "Like I do every day. I've met others who smell as nice as you do. But I guess I didn't know you smell even better when brought to orgasm."

 

His smile widens. He looks genuinely happy, and Emma has a feeling he is misunderstanding her now.

 

"Look, it's nothing special. It never was. You know this is how it goes here. We have fun for one night, and then we go on with our lives. Nothing special." Yet she can't help thinking how this very thing is special; she's never sat to talk with one of her one-night stands. She's never felt interested, or trusted enough to do so; but there is something about him...

 

"Okay," he says, surprising her a little. She half expected him to start begging her.

 

"Look, no hard feelings, okay?"

 

"Don't worry, love," he says as he puts on his underwear and pants. "In fact, I'm offering a little something in exchange for..." he purses his lips, "probably messing up your schedule."

 

"There's no need-" she starts but stops when she sees him extend his wrist to her. "Are you serious?"

 

"You're not gonna kill me, are you?" He laughs.

 

"Well, no, not that you'd have the power to stop me, but..."

 

"Then come on. I know humans volunteer for that. I've heard that about three sips are enough for the vampire and safe for the human, right?"

 

"Are you some sort of masochist?" she says, softly taking his wrist in her hand. She can't resist, she must admit, and he's way too willing. "It's not gonna kill you, but it doesn't feel good either."

 

He shrugs. "Well, I feel that my blood kind of sullied the night for you. Perhaps tasting it would salvage it."

 

"What do you care? Are you trying to lure your way to my bed again?"

 

"Bloody hell, Emma. Do you want my blood or not?"

 

"You haven't eaten any garlic today, have you?" She looks down to his wrist, and for the first time looks at the details of his tattoo. "Who's Milah?"

 

His face darkens. Not with anger or hate, but with pain and sorrow. "Someone... from the past."

 

Well, that's not awkward at all. Her grip is relaxed, though, and he's not pulling away... "Are you sure about this?" she says, looking into his eyes.

 

He nods, a small smile appearing on his face again.

 

That's all she needs. The familiar shiver runs through her spine again, her fangs spring out, her eyes burn, and she hisses. She can feel him tense slightly, but he doesn't move. Undisturbed, Emma leans in and bites him.

 

He tenses again, of course, but that's only a small thing she feels as the rest of her senses fade out. Oh, he tastes like heaven. She is sated for the night yet his blood calls to her, for more, and more...

 

He's damn lucky she _is_ sated. If she were thirsty he might have needed transfusion, or even died. She can't remember the last time she drank from someone that delicious. But she stops herself and removes her fangs, running her tongue over the bite marks. She lets go and can't help noticing how he doesn't snatch his arm away, only retrieves it slowly and looks at it.

 

"My spit," she says, almost breathless, "will help the marks heal faster."

 

"They're small," he says in a low voice.

 

Oh-oh. Did she drink more than she should have? Three sips, wasn't it?

 

He plops down on the bed, eyes drooping closed.

 

Shit.

 

"Killian?"

 

* * *

 

Two hours. He's been unconscious for two hours and it's only now he starts moving. She can hear his breath speed up to a normal rhythm as he wakes up.

 

He starts opening his eyes, then startles as he sees her. For half a second, she thinks he's scared of her now, but instead he immediately relaxes and sags on the mattress. That was probably from the way she was standing perfectly, vampiricly still over him.

 

Serves him right.

 

"Do you have a death wish or something? You're malnourished and you offer your wrist to a vampire to drink?"

 

"What?" He looks around the room, realizing he's now fully covered with the blanket.

 

She doesn't move. "You shouldn't agree, let alone volunteer to be drunk from if you haven't been eating right."

 

"How do... you know about that?"

 

She sighs. "Your blood is weak. Thin. I don't know how to describe it, but it's always a sign of not eating right." It was as tasty as it could be; but it was like she needed more than normal to fully taste it, and at his state... she probably should have noticed the dark circles under his eyes, his emphasized cheekbones, hell, he's even close to being as pale as she is.

 

"What time is it?"

 

"It's seven. The party ended one hour ago, but you wouldn't wake up. Didn't you come here with friends?"

 

He rises slowly, rubbing at his eyes. "We're not exactly friends. They were coming anyway and I asked them to take me along. They're probably gone by now."

 

"I'll call you a cab."

 

"Should I go to the hospital? I've never been drunk from before." He raises his arm and looks at the small bite marks on it.

 

"Oh, I can tell," she says while finding the taxi app on her phone. "I'd say you should wait a few days then run a blood test. If you do it now it'll be messed up from the drinking."

 

"So I'll be okay?"

 

"Well, you need to eat."

 

He actually rolls her eyes. At her. A mortal, rolling his eyes at a master vampire.

 

"Did you just- Did-" She sighs. "Never mind. Just make sure to not volunteer to any other vampire, otherwise they'll take the fall for you dying from anemia. Now get up. Get dressed. The cab will be here in a few minutes."

 

"I am sorry that you feel sorry for me," he says, voice dripping with irony. At least, he's rising from the bed and grabbing his shirt.

 

"I'm a vampire, not a sociopath."

 

He doesn't say anything else. He finishes dressing, grabs his jacket and turns to leave. Once outside her bedroom, though, he looks lost. "Which way's the taxi coming?" he says, turning towards her.

 

She walks past him, towards the main entrance of her mansion, not one many of her patrons see. She notices as he looks around the hallway, at all the paintings and sculptures.

 

"Whoa. On the inside it looks more vampire-like," he says.

 

She smiles.

 

She reaches the main entrance and opens the door, carefully avoiding the morning sun's rays. "Marco, pay for the man's cab," she says, handing her butler a fifty.

 

"Hey, wait-" Killian starts.

 

"I won't hear it. It's the least I can do for last night."

 

Killian just looks at her with an exasperated expression, then shakes his head and steps out.

 

To her dismay, Emma feels a pinch in her dead heart as she sees him walk outside, perfectly protected not from, but by the sun's light... until he stops. He seems to rub his forehead with his hand, then he turns around. He looks at her for a moment, and remembering she can't step outside, he walks back to the entrance.

 

"I'm sorry," he says. "I have no excuse for myself, it's just... I know I'm a mess." His shoulders sag. "I guess it's harder when people point that out to me."

 

"I may have exaggerated in my reaction too." She knows she would blush right now if she were still human. "Sometimes I think humans overestimate their mortality."

 

He smiles a little. "I just want you to know that last night, that wasn't the decision of a desperate man. It... may have started as so, but... it was great."

 

"You mean the sex or the drinking?" she says right when Marco walks back through the door next to her.

 

"The... the sex," Killian says. "Does he know?"

 

"About the sex or the drinking?" Emma smiles wide. "He's my butler. _Duh_."

 

Killian seems to mentally shake himself a little. "And the drinking, it wasn't... I... I don't know. It may have been desperation." His head drops. "Desperation to try and feel something new."

 

Despite the way her body works changed when turning into a vampire, her physical reactions are the same, so her stomach clenches a little at his words.

 

"Sorry, that was a bit too much," he says. "Maybe it was a bad decision after all."

 

"Don't worry about it, Killian. But you know, I have plenty of time on my hands. And I'd lie if I said I didn't have a bachelor in psychology, among other subjects, and a shit ton of money to be able to do pro bono work. So, if you ever need someone to talk..."

 

"I thought it was a one-time thing?"

 

She smiles. "Anyone can attend the parties as many times as they like. Or, you know, visit as a client. My bedroom is what's a one-time thing."

 

He smiles back. "I appreciate the offer."

 

"Think on it, Killian. And if you don't want to talk to me specifically, I have connections."

 

He just nods. She shouldn't push it further, but she is worrying for him. He enters the cab and turns to look at her, even as it rides away.

 

She's been there. Whatever it is he's going through, she's had similar issues. She closes the door and leans on it, her stomach still in knots.

 

She can only hope he will take up on her offer.

 

She catches herself. _Hope_. Now that's a word she doesn't remember using for a long time.

 


End file.
